“Hollywood royalty.”My lips curve upward.“Grace Kelly… It all fits.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.“Anyway…” Her expression sobers.“My parents and their need to run everything didn’t stop at the studio.So Cary moved to Florida and built a life he was proud of, and while I hated that he wasn’t close by, he never stopped checking in on me.On Buffy.Never.”
She presses her lips together, maybe to gather her thoughts or herself.“Aside from Buf and the whole hive-mind thing between twins, he was the only one who made me feel like I wasn’t a disappointment.”
I ache to touch her, and my hand reaches for hers, lacing my fingers through hers.
“About four years ago, he was killed while on a blind date.”
“Fuck, Grace.”
“The man who murdered him was an addict.”She stares at the ceiling, blinking fast.“Desperate for cash.One of those moments where everything goes wrong at once.Cary never stood a chance.”
Her voice frays.“I didn’t get to say goodbye.The police called me because my parents didn’t answer their phones that night.I was his number one contact.And when my parents finally did hear the news…” A hollow laugh slips out.“They blamed him.For leaving.For his choices.”
Something sharp lodges behind my ribs.Different details.Same cruelty.
“For many months, his murderer was on the run.And when he was finally arrested, I sat through every hearing, every court date.Watched the man who killed him cry.Apologize.”She shakes her head.“Justice didn’t heal anything or bring peace.”
A tear slips free.I brush it away with my thumb.
“After that…” She exhales shakily.“I threw myself into my job, and at first, though I didn’t realize it, I was numb, just going through the motions.Until I came across a case in California that pulled on my brother’s case.While most of the details were different, the one thing they had in common was that both assailants were hooked on the same drug.Sure, drugs make people do crazy, violent things, and that wasn’t a story, but something clicked for me.I knew in my gut the similarities meant something.This drug wasn’t just any narcotic.It was supposed to be a miracle drug.So I started digging on my own time.It took years before I found something and got the green light for an official investigation.This is the story my editor benched me for, giving me this assignment for the meantime.”
Her gaze finds mine, open and raw, and I shift closer, sliding my arm around her waist, pulling her into me until her head rests in the crook of my neck.
“He was my person, and then he was gone.”Her breath shudders.
I press my lips to her hair, holding her there, and let the moment be what it is.
“I’ve only ever spoken about this with Buf and Morgan… the woman on the blind date with him when it happened.The guy was aiming at her, and Cary stepped in front of her.”
“Shit.”I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to process everything.“And you’re friends now.”
“Yeah.Weird, but Cary would’ve wanted that.”She sniffs.“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“I do,” I murmur.
She lifts her head, searching my face.There’s relief there and something else—a willing vulnerability.Her hand comes up to my face, fingers grazing my jaw, slow and tentative.
The touch lands deep and reverberates through me.“You don’t have to be strong right now.”
Her fingers curl into my bicep, gripping like she might fall apart if she lets go, and I hold her tight, anchoring her to the bed, to me, to this moment.
“I know.”But her body says something else as she pulls back.
I kiss her then—soft, nothing demanding—the kind of kiss that saysI’m not going anywhere.She responds cautiously, testing if we’re real.
When I don’t change the pace or ask for more, her shoulders finally loosen, and she melts into me.We stay like that for a long moment, no talking, no rushing the quiet away.
Grace breaks the silence in a quiet voice.“Thank you for not trying to fix this.”
I tilt my head, resting my cheek against her hair.“Some things aren’t meant to be fixed.Just carried.”
She halts at that, as do I, now fully letting the truth of it seep into my bones.I mean it.Now, I have to try living it, which might be easier said than done.
I roll us so she’s beneath me, my weight braced on my forearms, careful not to crowd her as I press my mouth along her jaw, then throat.
She arches slightly, a quiet sound leaving her.“Mad, I want you inside me.”